Loyalty at its Worst
by Illusions of Insanity
Summary: They had been told that the sight of this world would be painful. Robin had expected as much. Any world where the children were doomed to die would be a terrible thing to witness. However, that didn't stop her from wanting to change it. When she lifted her sword for them, she had no idea that the one orchestrating the attack was her own her flesh and blood...


What kind of sick twist of fate was this?

She had fought desperately to save the children of this world. Even though this may be an Outrealm, she was not about to watch these innocent children die in an effort to change their fates. She never wanted to see the world her children had come from, miserable and destroyed. She wasn't blind; she knew that this world was all her fault. She wasn't going to let this happen. The her of this world may have failed and given in to the darkness of Grima, but she was going to uproot that evil for the sake of these children.

The flaming rubble around her cast long shadows on the hallway, making it impossible to see the disgusting person who had launched this attack. Brown eyes narrowed as Robin searched the darkness for a fleeting movement. Her brown ponytail swayed as she crouched down, her husband standing right beside her. Chrom had insisted on leading the way beside her, even when she had explained that he would be better off helping Lucina and Morgan cope with the dismal sights that had surely been a mirror of their own past lives. The stone melted in with the black of night and the orange glow of the flames, painting a strange mix of warm and cool colors. A single footstep ran out as someone drew closer, walking straight towards the grandmaster and great lord.

Her heart stopped beating as the monster behind the attempted slaughter of the children stepped out into the fire light.

A boy wearing the cloak of a sorcerer stopped ahead of them, his hands clutching a powerful dark tome with pale fingers. His brown eyes lit up in the shadow of his bone mask, gleaming in the warm lights. Robin's heart was throbbing in a painful rhythm as the short form tilted a head at them, a smile lifting on his lips. She couldn't believe in this sight. There had to be a mistake. There was no way that this was real.

"Mother?" The sorcerer let out a small sound before lifting the bone mask a bit higher on his forehead. Blue locks fluttered down in front of his eyes in that instant, sealing this scene for what it truly was. The Wyrmslayer in her hands quivered as she choked on her own breath. Chrom, once standing behind her, was now rushing ahead with a panic of his own, setting a distance between them and the rest of their force. The boy's brown eyes widened at the sight of the blue-haired man before they narrowed in rejection.

"You're not Grima," he snarled. Robin watched with a painful twist in her chest as the young sorcerer dropped to a ready position, his hands tightening their grip on the tome until his knuckles bled a fresh red. "You must be some other one, from another time." His lips parted in a grim grin as he slowly reached out with an open palm, readying a strike. "But I will not let you stand in my way!"

A dark purple smoke gathered in his palm as Robin stood there, her heartbeat the only sound in her mind. She couldn't do it. This boy was someone she loved, not a Risen or some horrible man. This boy was sweet and innocent, always with a smile and a laugh. His voice would light up their camp with the sweetest of sounds, giving her another reason to keep them all alive. This sorcerer was _not_ a sorcerer or a Grimleal as he was saying.

He was her _son_.

The so-called _son_ let out a twisted laugh as he thrust his palm forward, sending a bolt of purple magic racing to her heart. The brunette stood there, unable to even move a single limb. A shout rang out as the man beside her forced her back with a rough shove, sending her crashing to the floor. The pair laid there, breathing hot, desperate breaths as the cackling past above them before slamming into an archway and destroying it with an earth-shattering blast, causing even more ruin to the crumbling fortress.

"Robin," Chrom yelled above the ringing in his ears. "You have to snap out of it!" Robin looked beside her to find the blue-haired Exalt giving her a desperate look, his eyes wide and swirling with a pain that the brunette knew must be all over her face. No parent could be expected to go through this. How could she destroy something that she had created? How could she _kill_ the very child she _birthed_? She couldn't. She just couldn't.

The sorcerer stepped forward with an amused chuckle, his feet clanking against the floor. "Oh, come on now." His voice was just as light as it always was, causing her stomach to feel sick. Her throat was burning as if she was going to hurl as she shakily rose to her knees and gave the approaching Grimleal a look. The boy was giving her a smile, just as if this was all a sort of game they played in the heart of camp. "I know that you're a better fighter than this. I saw how you tore apart those Grimleal." His smile died as she rose to her feet, Chrom lifting himself up quickly with his hand on the Exalted Falchion. "Please," he sneered as his free hand clenched, suddenly becoming engulfed in purple once again. His eyes became wild as he snapped up and gave a monstrous grin. "Don't hold back on my account!"

The boy shoved the glowing orb of violet right at her face, laughing as the brunette woman dodged back and lifted the sword she had dubbed Wyrmsblood. The magic slammed into her dark crimson blade with a horrible clang, the smoke rising and swarming in her vision. Her arms burned as she felt a few residual thorns of the magic ripping in her skin, slipping right through her navy cloak. A light pressure on her arm told her that her husband was right beside her.

She had to fight back. Her efforts were critical in saving the children of this time. Her mind swam with the images of the worn, dirtied faces of the children that she had just freed from their prisons. What would she do if she let him escape and attack them? Naga herself had told them that this son was here to kill them; she couldn't just stand idly by and let him destroy them. The Lucina of this time still had not preformed the Awakening. Robin took a shaking step forward as Chrom lifted his blade, ready to attack.

Her feet raced ahead, bursting through the cloud of smoke as if it were nothing more than air. Her brown eyes lifted to find the boy staggering back in shock, unable to believe that she had actually decided to fight. Her heart felt like it was being twisted and torn to ribbons as she lifted her blade and raced ahead, aiming straight for the boy.

This wasn't her son. She had to keep remembering that. Her little boy was safe beside his elder sister and his cousin. He was a grandmaster of the highest caliber, able to decimate multiple units single-handedly. Her target started to ready an attack just as drops of red painted her vision, staining the world with a bright crimson that bled into everything. The only thing that was distinguishable was the black form of the sorcerer and the purple smoke that was flashing in the corner of her eyes. She knew that this was a Lethality attack; she had felt so much pain that she had to release it now and quickly. Her Wyrmsblood lifted before straightening out and being held out in front of her body.

Robin's body felt lighter than air as she jumped in the air and pierced through the robe on the blue-haired servant of Grima's stomach. She stood there with the blade sheathed in the enemy, watching on in a pounding swarm of her heart and the stinging of her eyes. The brightness in his brown eyes melted away as his mouth slowly opened slightly, the shock of the attack coming too quickly. His body let out a shiver before his legs suddenly gave out below him, sending him crashing to the floor.

Tears spilled from the woman's eyes as she took her blade from him and fell to the floor, kneeling beside the fallen sorcerer. The Wyrmsblood crashed to the floor next to her, painted red from her lethal attack. Her hands shook in front of her as the boy looked up at her face with wide, dull eyes and an open mouth. Slowly, his lips twisted into a weak smile.

"I'm sorry, Master Grima." The grandmaster's heart throbbed with agony as the boy let his head rest against the floor, his tome falling on the floor from his chest. "I tried my best to stop them..." His voice was weak and shivering, almost as if he was about to cry. Against the thoughts that had let her attack him, her fingers brushed his hair aside, clearing it from his fogged eyes. "My soul is yours to take...use it...and destroy those who threaten your safety."

And with those words, the boy took his last breath.

The brunette shivered with sobs as the tears fell from her chin, unable to rest on her cheeks and eyes any longer. Wet droplets of remorse crashed to the still body's face as the grandmaster and mother let out a choked sound of sorrow. Her hands carefully gripped his shoulders before lifting his body to her lap, resting his head against herself as she let out a cry. She had done it, but she felt even worse now. What had she done? She had killed the very reflection of her son with her own blade.

She had turned him into a killer in this world.

Muffled footsteps reached her ears as Chrom slowly walked up to her. His blue eyes were narrowed with tears and withheld sorrow, the father feeling a muted pain just as his wife was. His hand let the Exalted Falchion drop back to his hip, unwilling to grip the weapon any longer. He stood tall behind her, unaware of a way to comfort her. This grief was a strange one, one that was much different than the pain that had killed his heart when his beloved sister Emmeryn had made her famous jump and became a martyr. Instead, the blue-haired man simply provided the silent support of being near.

"Mother?" The voice drifted to the mourning mother's ears only seconds after it reached her husband. The voice was the same as the boy in her arms, light and brightening the whole hall. She remained motionless as she kneeled there, holding the fallen form in her grasp. The sound of two pairs of footsteps met her ears as two others joined the scene. The brunette did not turn around. She knew very well that this was the voice of her beloved son, the boy that had made defeating this enemy a terrible thing.

The boy in her arms, and the boy behind her, was Morgan, her son.

"Morgan." Chrom turned to find his son giving him a curious look, unable to see what his mother held or why she was kneeling on the ground with a sullied weapon beside her. Lucina was right beside her brother, her blue eyes narrowed with thought as she scanned her mother carefully. Her eyes widened for a moment as the sight snapped in her mind, making a painful, clear answer in her brain. She did not cry out or try to aid her mother. Instead, she swallowed the grief and returned to her stoic mask, her hand on the Parallel Falchion in her grasp with white knuckles.

"Father, why is Mother on the ground?" The curious tone in his voice brought a stab of pain in his chest, but he shoved it down in his gut. He didn't show the pain. Instead, he smiled at his son and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Brown eyes widened as Morgan looked at his father, a bit confused by his lack of an answer. "Is she injured? Do we need to call Lissa?" A bit of panic slipped in his voice as he bent over and started rummaging through the small bag of cloth his mother had given him, searching for something. "I-I have a Concoction still! She can use it!"

Chrom let out a weak chuckle before shaking his head. "No, no. Your mother is just fine." He gave his frantic son another smile, prompting him to stand at his full height again and remove his hands from his items pouch. "However, what about the children of this time?" His eyes became very serious as he looked at his son. "Cynthia and the others have been through a lot today. I'm certain they need help."

Morgan's eyes brightened at his words. A familiar, hereditary determination slipped in his bright browns as he nodded and looked back over his shoulder. "You're right! I'm certain that I could help them; Cynthia was looking sorta shaken when I ran over here." He looked back to find his father nodding and motioning for him to go help.

"Go be a hero, little one." His smile was fond as his son let out a cheer and ran off, leaving his sister to stand in front of her father with narrowed, shrouded eyes. Chrom looked to Lucina to find her letting out a shaking sigh and looking back up at her father with a miserable look. The father felt his heart clench again at the sight, but he forced himself to stand tall and seem strong.

"...The person after the children was Morgan, wasn't it?" Lucina's voice was cold and distant as she stood there, her blue eyes clouded with a muffled pain. Chrom could not react to her question. He just let out a sigh of his own and nodded slightly. The girl shook her head sadly before taking a step back while folding her arms over her chest, the princess' form tight and closed off. "I knew it was him; I could hear his voice commanding the Grimleal."

"Don't tell your brother." The words, desperate in tone, gushed out of the man's mouth before he could stop them. The Exalt felt a tear slip from his eye as he looked at his daughter. "Please, you can never tell him of this." Lucina looked to her father to find him giving her a grief-filled look. Her chest tightened just by seeing him this way. Her arms, once sharp and constricting, now fell slightly as she felt the horrible pain that came when her family was upset. "It would break his heart to know that his reflection..." Chrom's voice faded away, unable to continue with what he wanted to say.

Lucina took a deep breath before looking up at her father with warm, if not sad, eyes. "...I promise." Relief flew out of his lips in an exhale as the fellow great lord took a step back and let her eyes drift off to the way Morgan had run off to. "I promised you both that I wouldn't let anything hurt him, not even himself." She then turned away, leaving the two alone with the fallen sorcerer.

Chrom sadly turned back to his wife, watching as her shoulders heaved with her crackling sobs. Misery slipped in his veins as he walked to kneel beside her, hoping to comfort her in her grief. His blue eyes found her wrapping her arms around the boy's chest as if trying to embrace him, her shoulders and neck bent over so that she was looming over his motionless body. Tears had now soaked his skin, leaving him shimmering in the orange light.

"I-I did this to him," she croaked. Chrom tilted his head in confusion as her deep brown eyes drowned in her tears. "M-Morgan...h-he was serving Grima in this world. He turned against his own family...h-his own friends." She swallowed hard after the words left her mouth, but the man could tell that it did her no good. "H-How c-could he ever turn against—"

A gentle hand lightly pressed against her back as she looked down at the fallen sorcerer in pain, her chest tight. Chrom took a deep breath, trying to hold back the stinging in his own eyes. He couldn't help if he was in tears himself. He had to be strong. "You know he loves you very much." The words were a terrible thorn in the woman's heart as her husband let his eyes fall on the boy in her arms. "H-He would do anything to keep you safe; you've seen it yourself."

Suddenly the grandmaster let out a choke and snapped her head to her husband, her eyes holding a strange sort of anger that only came when one was grieving. "I would never want _this_!" Her voice was sharp and strong as she snapped at the man beside her. Chrom jolted back slightly at her switch, but his hand remained pressed against her shoulderblades. "I would never want my own son to try and kill the other children!" Robin's head suddenly dropped back down as her shoulders heaved once again, unable to stay strong against the guilt, disgust and misery that swirled and drowned her heart.

"If I ever turned...o-or lost control," she quivered, "I-I would want him to kill me."

"Robin!" Horror slipped in the man's veins as he watched her brush the horrible skull off of his head, releasing blue hair from the white encasement. His heart clenched as he thought of the words she had told him before, words of a similar, almost suicidal nature. "Don't say things like that," he pleaded. "Y-You will _never_ become Grima. You're stronger than that."

"My reflections did."

With those words, she remained silent. Instead, she cradled the fallen Morgan and closed her eyes. Chrom felt his hand itch with fear as he heard the others talking behind them. He knew that they had finished with their healing of the rescued children. Nah's reflection was probably talking with Ricken and Nowi, gaining a sliver of hope in this dismal world from the words of their love. The others would most certainly be doing the same, even as the children of their world watched on with thankful eyes. They would come and find them soon if he didn't stall them.

Full of regret, the Exalt lifted to his feet and turned towards the clamor of people. His blue eyes slipped back down to his wife to find her gently lifting the blue-haired boy from the floor with hollow eyes, her shaking gone for the moment. Robin slowly shifted the weight in her arms to hoist the body on to her back, trying to carry it away from the eyes of the other Shepherds. A pang in his chest arrived when he realized that she was most likely trying to carry him away from this place and give him a proper burial, something that the scattered bodies of other servants of Grima were never given. The others would be gathered in a mass grave before they moved on, even if this was not their world. He shifted, trying to aid her in her efforts only to be shoved aside with a tear-drenched hand. He respectfully stepped away, letting her wrap his arms around her neck and stain the back of her navy cloak with the markings he left behind.

"I'll distract them," he murmured. Brown eyes lifted to his own in an instant, shimmering with a slight light of thankfulness beyond the grey cloud of pain. "You go ahead and find a place for him." He took a step away from her as she nodded, his mind swirling with thousands of emotions that threatened to tear him apart. He stood tall as Robin slowly walked away from the battlefield and slipped out a crumbling stone wall to the outside. Her cloak lingered in his vision before it was swallowed by the bleak night air. Chrom then slowly let his eyes flutter shut, trying to hold down the sadness and loss that were trying to destroy him from within. His feet seemed dead as he tore himself away from the site of this horrible twist and walked away, heading towards the other Shepherds with a forced smile.

He had never thought loyalty could be a bad thing until that very moment when Morgan became the enemy.

* * *

 _Author's Note: The BadFuture!DLC pack is horrible. Not only is it incredibly difficult, but it KILLS YOU WITH EMOTIONS. I mean, the Morgans are on the side of Grima, trying to kill their friends (and family) while your character wrecks havoc. It's painful, to say the very least._

 _So, seeing as I've been kind with all of the fluff, HAVE SOME MORE ANGST!  
_

 _...I'm sorry, truly. But this pain must be shared!_


End file.
